The Fateful Night
by TinkerLi
Summary: The story from Lily's POV during the last moments of her life as she cares for her son during their impending doom.


**Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is my own. This is simply my thoughts of Lily's POV of the night she died.**

Not once in her life had she poured her eyes over something so beautiful, so angelic, so _perfect_. The moment of realization that their lives would never be the same both frightened and exhilarated her. She could not seem to find enough time to look over this magnificent creation that was both strong and fragile at the same time. She reluctantly bid her eyes to blink to allow her more time to peer down on the babe in her arms. The sleeping form of what was so pure and what meant so much for their future…for their world's future…for both worlds' futures.

She was not a fool. She would have to gather the courage when the time came and do what was necessary to protect him. She would sacrifice everything, just so he could live and forge his destiny.

She heard the sound she feared most. The screams of her husband as he fought valiantly to protect them below. How has it taken her so long to realize the sincerity behind his years of advances in school? It seemed a waste for them to have lost so much time and have the rest ripped from them by such dark, hate-ridden monsters. She heard the sound that broke her heart, the scream as the intruders said the vile curse that took the life of her friend, her lover, her husband, _her James._ She barricaded herself in front of their son; her final attempt as his shield from the dangers that sought to destroy all that good and light in the world. This would be the last time her eyes would every peer over their child.

The door was ripped open with such force that she felt the gush of air hit her back. The presence in the room was vile, evil, and reeked of death. Turning to face her adversary, she steeled her courage and gripped her wand tightly in her grasp. By this point, the little boy behind her was alert and trying to find something familiar to grasp in his hands. She could sense he was frightened and his only solace was his mother's presence in the dangerous situation he could not fully understand at the moment.

The hooded figure hissed at her to move aside. Lily held her ground and she proudly said no in an even tone that even surprised herself. The vile creature in front of her laughed at her defiance and simply sneered at her courage. He again told her to move as he gripped her arm to force her off her guard. Lily snatched her arm away from him and remained rooted in front of her son. The demon warned her one last time to move aside, mentioning she was meant to be spared. Lily laughed at this suggestion and simply remained solid as stone in front of the defenseless child, the last remaining part of James this world has to offer her. She was not shocked as the green light erupted from the end of wand pointed towards her. She stayed still in front of her child, her Harry, until the last moment of life left her body.

The figure was aggravated with being delayed in his plans for the evening. The fragile baby that was destined to be his downfall in the future stood gripping his crib staring at the now still form of his mother. He laughed at the child as weakness threatened to fall from his eyes. He sneered at this simple minded waste the blood traitor created with his mudblood whore. He repeated the curse used to kill the parents of the child, saw the green jet erupt from his wand, and waited for what would be a most glorious victory.

At once, he felt it go awry. The child was alive and he was burning. His body was shriveling into nothingness, and the child remained unharmed, save for a scar on his forehead. He had to flee while he still could. The curse had rebound and had made its mark on him in diluted form. He fled the scene of the crumbling house as the first of the auror force appeared. His plan had failed. How could this be happening? What is this magic? How could a simple child be end of his reign of glory? He would heal. He would recover. He would face that child again and make his mark on history as The Dark Lord. He would wait and bide his time. When that moment arises, he would take it by force and be on his throne, again. The muggles, mudbloods, and blood-traitors would be at his feet, groveling down to their sovereign.

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **I have three full-length stories currently being updated regularly, now. Check out "The Forgotten Disgrace", "Last Granger Standing", and "Affections Disguised".**


End file.
